In city shoes of clueless blues   Pays the views and no man's news   Blades will fade from blood to sport   The heroin's cut these fuses short      Smokers rode a colonial pig   Drink and frame, this pain I think   I'm melting silver poles my dear   You bleed your wings and then disappear      The moving scenes and pilot lights   Smithereens have got 'em scaling heights   Modern times come talk me down   And battle lines are drawn across this town      Parisian boys without your names   Ghetto stones instead of chains   Talk 'em down 'cause it's up in flames   And nothing's changed      Parisian boys without your names   Riot like 1968 again   The days of rage, yeah, nothing's changed   Well pretty flames      In school, I would just bite my tongue   And now your words, they strike me down   The flags are false and they contradict   They point and click which wounds to lick      On avenues, this Christian breeze   Turns its heart to more needles please   Our eyes roll back and we beg for more   It frays this skin and then underscore      The case for war you spin and bleed   The cells you fill screen savers feed   The girls you breed, the soaps that you write   The graceless charm of your gutter snipes      The moving scenes and suburbanites   And smithereens got 'em scaling heights   Modern times come talk me down   The battle lines are drawn across this town      English boys without your names   Ghetto stones instead of chains   Hearts and minds, and U.S. planes   Nothing's changed      And English boys without your names   Riot like the 1980's again   The days of rage, yeah, nothing's changed   More pretty flames